Sweet dreams
by ramonesroxx
Summary: A little (rewritten) story capturing the ordeal of Gregory Richards after finding out that Olivia had an affair with Del. Takes place after the sofa scene, ca. ep. 20.


„Who was that on the phone?" he asked as she hung up.

„No one." she replied dry

„Oh... Maybe next time it will be someone worth telling me about…" he continued.

„Whatever you say my dear." she said on a low voice heading to the bar.

„No, wait, don't make another move!" he shouted.

Her eyes met his, with a slight curiosity she couldn't hide.

„You'll pull the vodka out, mix it in your orange juice so the kids don't notice what you're doing, drink until you'll lose conscience..."

„Save yourself the drama!" She interrupted. „I'm taking the orange juice without the extras."

He raised his eyebrow not knowing if he should believe her.

„Besides, even if, you won't be here to see me lose consciousness. You'll be up late, working on some very important project...with your secretary...so why don't you save yourself the act and leave right now?"

„You're right darling, I do have many important things to take care of by tomorrow." he hissed and headed to the door, picking up his suitcase in a hurry.

The slammed door echoed in her head.

You won't see me dead drunk! This pleasure, I won't offer you! she said to herself while watching the dim light reflecting into the colorless liquor.

* * *

Gregory excused himself for running late for the evening meeting. Ben was looking up to him curious about the fact that he was late. It wasn't like him.

Throughout the whole meeting, or what was left of it, he couldn't stop thinking about Olivia. How she avoided him for the last couple of days, better yet, since the incident on the sofa.

He really was a jerk. But she wanted it too, he thought to himself.

Their rage was so high, their hatred so deep, one of them wouldn't have made it alive out of that living room.

He could have killed her there. He wanted to, he wanted to hurt her right there and then. To make her stop hurting him.

Del Douglas of all people, his best friend. And then she'd even defy him on such level, enumerating the places of their house she'd been unfaithful to him.

 _On this rug, in this room, in your bed._

That was the last drop. The very last drop of patience.

Although he had to admit on a second thought, that Del probably didn't even enter further than the lobby of his house.

He had questioned Rose, who swore Del Douglas was never even inside their living room. Olivia lied.

She was so desperate for attention that she recurred to the filthiest lies. As if her affair with his mentor and best friend wasn't enough as it was.

How could he still be reasonable to her? Every man, no matter how composed, would have lost it.

Having sex seemed less damaging. He was rough and absolutely selfish with her. But it was better than anything else that crossed his mind that evening.

He couldn't lose the feeling tough, that leaving her behind afterwards was wrong. He had used her. His guilt was written all over his face.

Ben stared at Gregory long enough to realize he wasn't listening to a thing said in the meeting.

He took some notes for his friend, so that he would at least know some of the curriculum afterwards.

When the ordeal of sitting there for two hours was finally done, Gregory excused himself and ran upstairs to his office.

"Gregory..." Ben started.

But Gregory pretended not to hear him and vanished in the long hallway.

"Damn you Olivia, why are you doing this to me?" She could ask him the same thing, he thought.

* * *

Back in his office, he went trough some papers trying to chase his thoughts away. His secretary's assistant was putting a few things together, the silence suddenly awkward to him. He was dead inside. Olivia and Del. Del... he couldn't stop imagining his wife in bed with his friend, imagining her moaning to his touch, laughing with him, sharing her body with him, probably her soul as well. Which one was worse, he couldn't tell.

He forced himself out of that painful scenario that got stuck in the back of his mind and directed his attention to the young woman present.

„You sure look great tonight Angie, have any plans?"

„No special plans Mr. Richards. Maybe I'll go at The Deep with a friend. A girl friend." She underlined.

„I see..." he looked at her intensely.

Her black hair was framing her face perfectly and was matching the big blue eyes. Her suit was surely a bit too tight, he thought, but still an eye catcher.

The way she looked at him made him feel wanted, but... did she want him?

„Would you care to pour me a drink, please?"

„Sure, as usual?"

„Yes. Oh and, fell free to take one too."

„I'm sorry, I don't drink at work."

„Even if you boss says so?"

She smiled and accepted his offer with no further replies.

„So, Angie, what goals do you have in life? Would you like to be a secretary forever, or maybe do something on your own one day?"

She didn't really understand where he was getting at but she had a slight idea.

„Of course I'd love to do something on my own one day, but I'm afraid I don't have the money..."

And that was exactly what he was waiting for to hear.

„And I don't quite know how to make more money at the moment..." That was it! She entered his game, she understood.

She stood up from the chair facing him and unbuttoning her suit, then her shirt. She was indeed beautiful, he thought, but dull and he pitied her.

She walked toward him and sat on the desk in front of him pulling his tie, pulling him closer to her.

He looked her in the eyes, so big, so blue...as if he'd seen these eyes before, so afraid and unsure.

She started to kiss his lips and worked her way down to his neck, unfolding his tie.

 _These eyes remind me of..._ he tried to concentrate on her but his mind couldn't stop thinking about another.

 _They remind me of Olivia..._ He stood up fast, almost ashamed of what he had begun doing, rearranged his tie and avoided Angie's eyes.

Angie's hands grabbed his waist as he turned around struck by her guts.

"You're not going to leave me here hungry, are you."

"Angie...it's wrong..."

"Wrong but I know you want it. I want it." She assured him while turning her back at him to let him contemplate on her body.

Gregory's body worked against him. Again. He felt the need to release the heavy pressure that he was carrying around for too long. Oliva and Del, Olivia and ...Del!

"Forget about your wife...forget about everything, it's just you and me now." She was tempting as he couldn't but shrug at the thought of how obvious it was what he was thinking about.

He took a deep breath, knowing it wouldn't matter anymore. His marriage was dead, Olivia was dead inside and out, there was nothing left there but sorrow, lies and spilled drinks on the expensive carpets of his house. And here she was, this young woman who tempted him beyond control, making him feel wanted and special. The look in her eyes reminding him of a time Olivia used to look at him this way. He couldn't help feeling sick at the thought it was the way she looked at Del, walking towards Angie and unbuttoning her shirt, exposing her flesh.

Olivia was dead to him and even so, never out of his thoughts. His vision turned dark and he chose to close his eyes as Angie kissed him passionately. He let his guard down now, he might as well continue with what he had begun doing. He was sick, sick of Olivia and sick of himself, acknowledging that he searched for comfort in a woman who reminded him of his wife. The hair, those eyes, the passion. Tough it wasn't her, was it?

No...but it was about as close as it could get. This Olivia. His Olivia. And Del...

* * *

He entered his house with a weird feeling. Was he going to find Olivia by the bar, vodka spilled on her blouse because she lost it before being able to put the glass down?

Or did Rose already take care of his wife, changing her clothes and putting her to bed?

Gregory was used to this scenario but every time he thought about it, he had to shiver.

He never knew how much Olivia would take before something bad really happened to her, a coma maybe, or even death...she always looked so fragile that he wondered how a woman like her could outdrink the last living alcoholic.

Downstairs, no sign of Olivia.

He rushed on the stairs, the feeling of guilt for leaving her alone, following him with every step he took.

She felt a sudden cold entering the master bedroom, and quickly pulled her feet under the sheets.

Cold combined with his perfume, she'd recognize him blind folded only by his scent, she thought.

Gregory moved slowly toward the bed, his eyes narrowing her body in the dark, trying to figure out whether she was fine or not.

She didn't move.

The room didn't smell like alcohol, she didn't either.

He walked toward her side of the bed and watched the lazy moonlight dancing on her face.

An enchanting eyesight. He found himself staring for minutes at her and was proud. She didn't drink tonight, she proved she was strong. What did he prove tough? That he was a hypocrite. A liar and a broken man.

He gently touched her hand, it was cold, he noticed. To avoid waking her up, he just pulled the sheets over her and started getting undressed, slowly and silently, throwing all the clothes in the laundry basket as if trying to get the dirt of his act away from his body.

He was tired, tired and satisfied with his wife. Not knowing that she followed every step of his movements, he tucked himself in bed and whispered a 'Good Night'.

 _Good night to you too, you bastard! Leaving me alone to fight against my weakness. You can stare at me for as long as you want! Nothing is going to change about me if you do. Yes, this is me, Olivia, the drunk, the sober, the mother, the friend, the wife...the betrayed..._

She was so mad at him, she felt she couldn't take laying by his side any longer. It was better when she was alone.

Gregory intentionally rolled toward her, putting an arm on her hips, moving slowly up, caressing her hand.

How she didn't explode of anger, she couldn't tell but the warmth of his hand calmed her down. The warm hands she missed so much..why did he touch her now? What has happened?

Like a charm she couldn't resist, she let herself led by his move, rolling on the other side and facing him. His breath was warm and heavy but a breath she didn't hear and feel in long long time.

Gregory wasn't sure if she was awake or still sleeping but he felt he had to make things right, to calm down his own conscience. He started kissing her nose, her lips, her neck...

 _I won't give in Gregory Richards! You won't have it your way tonight._ as much as she wanted him to do what he was doing, she pulled herself together and didn't answer his kisses until he finally stopped.

Shortly after she heard his breath getting heavier and heavier. He fell asleep. _Sweet dreams, my love. Sweet dreams._ She thought and felt hot tears running down her cheeks. He had betrayed her, she knew it.

The end.


End file.
